


Taco Hell

by dcjuris



Series: Being Human [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Food Poisoning, Human Castiel, M/M, Sick Castiel, Vomit, established wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:04:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16397627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dcjuris/pseuds/dcjuris
Summary: Castiel gets food poisoning for the first time. The boys take care of him. (These works are not in any order at all, other than the way they come to me.)





	Taco Hell

Dean blinks his eyes open slowly, listening for what woke him. The room is pitch black except for the garish neon glow of the clock. Three forty-five. Behind him, Sam is snoring softly, one arm curled possessively around Dean's waist, long fingers splayed across his abdomen.

He's about to go back to sleep when he hears shuffling outside the door, and Cas' muffled voice calling his name. He worms his way out of Sam's arms—Sam huffs and frowns but doesn't wake. Dean rubs the sleep from his eyes as he zombie walks to the door and opens it. He squints at the flood of light. "Cas?"

"I'm sorry to wake you."

"'Sokay. What's up?"

"I don't know. But I don't feel right."

And now that Dean's more awake, he realizes the ex-angel has his arms wrapped around his middle and his skin is pale under a sheen of sweat. "Stomach botherin' you?"

Cas nods and Dean picks up on a slight tremble.

"Prolly those tacos." Dean stifles a yawn and gestures over his shoulder. "C'mon. I'll get you some Pepto."

He steps back inside and gets three seconds away from the bathroom when Cas suddenly lets out a gurgling, strangled form of his name and promptly vomits.

Cas stares down at the mess as if he can't believe what just happened. "I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it." It's not the first time Dean's cleaned someone else's puke off his floor. Probably won't be the last.

Cas' features twist up into an agonized grimace and Dean grabs him. He pushes Cas into the bathroom and gets him over the toilet just in time for another eruption. He guides Cas down to his knees and squats beside him.

"Dean?"

"You'll be okay. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you will be. It's probably just food poisoning."

Cas whips his head around. "Someone _poisoned_ my food?"

"No, not like that." _He takes everything literally, Dean!_ "It just means the food was bad. Maybe the meat was a little past its prime or not cooked right. Coulda been the lettuce, too." Because yes, Sam, vegetables can be evil.

Cas squeezes his eyes shut. He snorts several hard breaths out through his nose.

"Don't try to hold it in." He's actually giving advice on how to puke. This is what his life has come down to.

Cas shudders so hard something in his back makes a loud _pop_ and launches himself over the bowl again.

Dean rubs his back and murmurs nonsense to him—that it's okay, just let it happen—random things he would say to Sam in the same situation.

Cas sits back on his feet and nearly topples over but Dean catches him and steadies him. "Sit still for a sec. I'll get you some water."

He stands and fills a cup with water just as the bathroom door fills with Sam. He's got his nose covered and he's pointedly not looking at Cas.

"Dean?"

"I think Cas' first foray with tacos didn't go so well."

"Can I help?"

Dean laughs. Sam is a sympathetic puker. "Not in here. If you're awake enough, can you run to that all night place and get some ginger ale and crackers?"

Sam nods enthusiastically and runs from the room. Dean can't blame him.

He settles back down next to Cas. "Rinse your mouth out and spit. Don't swallow it."

Cas gives him the best imitation of Sam's bitch face he's ever seen, but he takes the cup, swishes the water around, and spits.

Dean spares a glance into the bowl just in case before flushing, but there's no blood or anything unusual. "How's your stomach feel? Got any more in there?"

Cas shakes his head. "I don't know. I—" He vomits again, this time so forcefully his face turns red and his eyes water. He sags back against Dean with a pitiful moan.

"Looks like Jimmy was a projectile kinda guy. 'Sgood—It'll get it out of you faster."

"I hate this," Cas mumbles. "This is very unpleasant."

Dean chuckles and reaches over to snag a still wet washcloth off the side of the sink. "I know it is, buddy."

He helps Cas rinse his mouth again and wipes his face. "Think you'll be okay for a sec while I clean up the floor?"

Cas makes a _shoo_ gesture and Dean quickly gathers up supplies and has the mess taken care of in no time. He grabs the can of air freshener from the back of the toilet—what the fuck? _Flannel Embrace_? What the hell kind of name is that? He sprays a squirt and sniffs the air. It smells like cologne and dryer sheets. This was definitely a Sam purchase.

He heads back into the bathroom to find Cas curled up in ball, clutching his stomach and groaning.

"C'mon. We need to get you up into a bed. Floor's not helping."

"What if…I…have to…" He waves at the toilet.

"You can use a trash can. C'mon." He bends and gets a hold of Cas under his arms and hauls him up. Cas sways unsteadily on his feet, so Dean throws Cas' arm over his shoulder and guides him to the bed.

"This is…not my bed."

"Nope."

"This…this is _your_ bed, Dean."

"Nothin' gets past you, does it, Cas?"

"But Dean, if I can't hold it—"

"It'll wash. It's puke, not acid rain. We'll deal. Now c'mon, stretch out." He tugs gently on Cas' legs.

"Everything hurts."

"I know. It's gonna suck for a while. I think you're over the worst of it." He grabs the trashcan and plops it by the bed.

"Dean…I…this… This is so unpleasant."

"No argument from me."

Cas starts to say something else, but he's cut off as anther wave of cramps come on. He tries to ball up again, but Dean climbs into bed behind him and stops him. Dean hooks a leg over Cas'. "Trust me, stretched out is better."

Cas gasps and tears shimmer in his eyes. "This body has such…such a low pain threshold. It's… It's really very incon—" Another gasp. "Inconvenient."

"Yeah, Jimmy wasn't much of a warrior, I guess. But you are. You'll be okay."

He pushes Cas' t-shirt up and lays his hand on the ex-angels stomach. He can feel the muscles bunching and twisting. He rubs gentle, small circles with the heel of his hand and presses a kiss to Cas' head. "Just try to relax. I know that sounds impossible, but just try. Close your eyes and concentrate on my touch."

Cas closes his eyes and leans back a little.

Several minutes later, the door opens a crack. "Dean?"

"C'mon in, Sammy. The coast is clear."

Sam strides in with two plastic grocery bags. He unpacks crackers, Cheerios, throat lozenges, and bottled water. "I got ginger ale, Gatorade, and applesauce. I stuck those in the fridge. Figured he wouldn't be up for them yet."

"Good call. Crack a bottle of water and lets get a couple sips in him. See if he can keep that down."

Sam opens a bottle and brings it over, batting Cas' hand away when he reaches for it. "Just let me."

Dean smiles as Sam holds the bottle up to Cas' lips and helps him take a drink. "Just a few sips," Sam warns.

Cas sits back and Sam nods to Dean's hand, still working on the ex-angel's muscles. "Cramps?"

"Yeah, pretty bad."

Cas looks up at Dean, panic written in his shocked eyes as his teeth start to chatter.

"It's okay. It's chills. It happens sometimes."

"Here." Sam toes off his shoes and heads to the other side of the bed. "Switch sides with me."

Dean frowns. The last thing he needs is double the clean up. "He might not be done puking."

"I picked up some Dramamine."

"Will that work?"

Sam shrugs. "Dunno. But I won't be able to sleep if I know he's miserable."

"Fair enough."

They settle around Cas—Sam at his back, petting his hair, blanketing him with warmth—and Dean in front, rubbing his stomach and singing softly.

 

Cas wakes up a few hours later. His head hurts, his insides feel like they've been carved out with an angel blade, and his throat is uncomfortably scratchy. But Sam is behind him, face pressed against his neck, one long leg thrown over both of his, and Dean is in front of him, one arm under his head, the other pressed against his stomach and chest. And while Cas never, ever—ever—wants to experience this night ever again, he can't help but bask in the Winchesters' comfort.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also a published author. If you like my writing style, check out my published works on Amazon by searching "DC Juris" - that's me. :-)


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